


Where Darkness and Light Seem Dimmer

by ObliObla



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Chloe KNOWS, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Mild Kink, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Season/Series 03, Tumblr Prompt, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliObla/pseuds/ObliObla
Summary: Luciferprompts: Lucifer falls asleep on a stakeout and Chloe decides to leave him be. But as the minutes tick by, it becomes clear he's having a sex dream.What does she do?





	1. A Dream's Delight

**Author's Note:**

> Light, and sleep, and delight, and wonder,   
>  Change, and rest, and a charm of cloud,   
> Fill the world of the skies whereunder   
>  Heaves and quivers and pants aloud   
> All the world of the waters, hoary   
> Now, but clothed with its own live glory,   
> That mates the lightning and mocks the thunder   
>  With light more living and word more proud.  
> From ‘A Swimmer’s Dream’—Algernon Charles Swinburne

“This is so tiresome. Must we really sit here doing nothing for the next six hours?” Lucifer pouted at Chloe from the passenger seat. It was really quite disturbing how much he managed to look like Trixie being denied chocolate cake for dinner.

“Yes, we ‘must’,” she made sarcastic finger quotes in his direction before returning to the file on her lap. “You know, you’ve sat through dozens of stakeouts by now and you’re not usually this whiny. What’s up?”

“I do not _whine_ ,” he huffed, staring at the dilapidated warehouse they were supposed to be surveilling. She snorted; he scoffed, “ _Fine_. I am simply… displeased by our current venture.”

She frowned. This seemed worse than his usual reticence. “Why?”

No… particular reason.” he sagged against the seat. She watched him, in the faint reflection in the window, suppress a yawn. The line of his spine shuddered as he rolled his shoulders, resting his head against the glass.

She bit her lip, turning back to the file. He hadn’t been sleeping well, she knew, since Pierce had died, since she finally believed him. It’d been weird to realize that archangels apparently needed sleep; not as much as humans did, but still… She risked another glance at him. He was wearing concealer—more than he usually did—but it didn’t quite cover the dark circles under his eyes. His lashes fluttered for a moment before he forcibly straightened, catching her staring. He shook his head. “Detective, while I appreciate your concern for me, don’t fret,” he smiled a little halfheartedly, “I’m alright.” He shifted away from her, returning his focus to the warehouse.

Well, he _was_ an adult wasn’t he? For God’s— _or someone’s_ —sake, he was about as old as the universe; he could stand a few sleepless nights. Lord knows she’d had more than her fair share. Half the time she’d wake up in a cold sweat, his eyes—flickering with hellfire or black and fathomless, it didn’t seem to matter—fixed unblinkingly on her in desperate sorrow. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him; she didn’t think she could ever be afraid of him, but those first days _after_ had been… bad. The very fabric of reality as she’d known it had been ruthlessly stripped away. And Pierce was, well, _Pierce_. The man she’d almost _married_ had…

She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. She could _not_ think about this now. It was really, _really_ not the time for a panic attack. She had to focus; there was a job to do.

*   *   *

1:00 a.m. rolled around. _Eventually_. Halfway through the stakeout, and even Chloe was about ready to nod off. Lucifer was slumped sideways, wedged between the seat and the door. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his cheek was pressed, hard, against the window. She hadn’t noted a single useful detail since they’d started watching this damn warehouse. She double checked her files, got an update from Ella, who was also still awake, then went over every inch of the building with her binoculars. Nothing. The stakeout was a bust, but they still had to sit here for the next—she checked her phone again—two hours and forty-five minutes.

She sighed, glancing over at him again; his eyes were completely closed. His chest moved steadily in deep, if rather restless, sleep. She should’ve woken him up, but… nothing was happening anyway. Who was it hurting to let him sleep? His jaw was unclenched and his forehead smooth for the first time in months. Sleep deprivation had, unsurprisingly, led to a shorter temper and, even though he was emotionally self-aware enough now to recognize his own soured mood and try to correct it, it’d still be nice to get the old Lucifer back.

_Maybe the old Lucifer isn’t what you’re looking for. Maybe what you really miss is your old, safer worldview._

She suppressed the annoying voice in her head; she already had her infuriating partner, she hardly needed another little whisper messing with her mind. Letting him sleep was fine; it wasn’t like _she’d_ never fallen asleep on stakeout before. It happened to everyone at least once. She’d give him a couple minutes, then put a file down too hard or something. He’d wake up and they’d never have to talk about how disconcertingly vulnerable he looked when he was…

_Eyes front, Decker._

The warehouse; she had to watch the warehouse. She could make it two-and-a-half hours. She was a professional.

*   *   *

Chloe almost made it.

It would’ve been fine if Lucifer hadn’t, at 3:00 a.m.—the height of the weakness brought by fatigue—slid around in his sleep, tipping his head toward her. His hair was a mess, rucked up by the seatback, and the curls tumbled down, framing his face. His face that, in the depths of sleep, looked younger and almost innocent. But her partner’s adorable face—even the adorable face of a partner she had kissed multiple times and, with whom, she was trapped in some kind of weird sexual tension stalemate he unequivocally refused to break—had not been enough to sway her.

No, _that_ had been the damn noises.

It had started with a soft, but audible, exhalation; a gentle sigh that parted his lips in an unfairly appealing manner. The warehouse had yet to provide any degree of excitement, so even that meager distraction had been plenty to divert her gaze. It’d been followed by a quiet, rumbling hum so low she’d felt more than heard it. She’d thought, for a moment, that he might’ve been messing with her, but a breathy whimper that whined its way out of his throat had dispelled any suspicions. That wasn’t a sound that someone consciously made. _That_ was a noise that was forced out of someone because they were… Her thoughts were interrupted by a velvety purr that sent shivers up her spine and pooled warmth between her legs. “ _Darling_ …”

She had to wake him up. She _had_ to. No matter how awkward this would be for her and, _probably_ , him, it would be nothing compared to how embarrassing it would become if she let this continue. Not to mention how thoroughly it would violate his trust just when his trust was something she was rather painfully lacking. She picked a file off her lap and dropped it on the central console; it made a satisfyingly distinct papery racket. He shifted, and she almost thought it had worked, but he merely settled again with a guttural groan that made her thighs clench.

His legs were spread wide now, and the tent in his slacks was becoming very difficult to ignore. His hand had flopped to the armrest as he’d moved and, with another quiet hum, his fingers tightened around the plastic. She was rapidly shifting from aroused to annoyed. Sure the sounds he was making were, quite frankly, some of the most erotic things she’d ever heard—not that she had a lot of experience, particularly—but it was kind of gross to think about him having a wet dream about some random person when they had… when she was…

“ _Chloe_ …” It was somewhere between a whisper and a broken moan. He was panting now, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. If anything was happening outside, she was no longer aware of it; her entire world narrowed to his sinful mouth as he groaned again, “Chloe, _please_ …” Her name sounded wonderful in that pleading tone. Her inner muscles fluttered in anticipation. She blinked, shaking her head. What was she _doing_?

She could think of half a dozen reasons why she shouldn’t be doing this—notwithstanding the fact that they were technically working. And yes, before she’d found out and the rest of that mess had happened, she _had_ been ready to do… whatever this was. Their kiss—the last moment of stability she’d had—had been more than nice; it’d felt like coming home. Like safety and warmth and _love_. But after… seeing, she _couldn’t_ ; could she? It was one thing to accept that your best friend was the Devil. It was a whole other thing that the Devil _loved_ you and that you kind of, sort of, probably loved him back.

Her rambling thoughts, and his sleep, were abruptly shattered by the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh in the delivery bay. They were both out of the vehicle to apprehend the suspects in an instant and if her cheeks were pink, if he was breathing a little hard for someone who could effortlessly throw a man across a room with one hand, well, _she_ certainly wasn’t going to mention it.


	2. Dreams of Light

“Chloe, _please_ …” She shot upright, panting, tangled in her sheets. After dropping the perps off at the precinct, she’d driven home and immediately collapsed on her bed without even setting an alarm; luckily, it was Saturday. But unfortunately, now that her subconscious had gotten a live preview of Lucifer moaning her name, she’d been treated to a never-ending marathon of the many, _many_ gloriously erotic things he could be doing to and with her, if only she gave in to temptation.

_Come on, Detective. Just a little taste?_

She slammed her head back into the pillows. This was so much worse than the last time she’d been plagued with Lucifer-themed sexy dreams. She had the sounds to go with the visuals now and it was apparently all her brain needed to create 4k HD-quality, surround-sound scenarios that left her aching and unfulfilled. The last time she had… was… _Pierce_ , and that was, well, bad news all the way down, really. She just needed…

She sighed, wiping her face. She knew what she needed—knew what she _wanted_ —and her mind was refusing to let her be in denial about it any longer. She wanted Lucifer, desperately, and in the short term there weren’t really any downsides. She had no fear of potential infidelity anymore, nor of him abandoning her after having his fleeting interests satisfied. Those impressions had clearly been wrong, maybe not from the beginning, but for _years_ at this point. But those had been easy problems compared to the veritable tidal wave of complexity they’d have to withstand. Sure, they loved each other, but could that be enough?

Could it ever not matter that he was immortal? That she was a miracle? That God had messed with both of their lives so much it was impossible to tell what was manipulation and what wasn’t? And even if _she_ managed to wrestle with these issues, could he ever accept that he deserved to be happy? She bit her lip, tugging the sheets back up; what she really needed was a good night’s sleep. Everything would make more sense if she could just… She closed her eyes, pushing down a vision of Lucifer between her legs, hands gentle but firm on her upper thighs. Sleep. All she needed was sleep, and she could figure this all out.

Probably.

Maybe.

But sleep was, apparently, a bit of an asshole and vehemently refused to help her out. She checked her phone: 5:42. Great. _Fine_. If she was going to be awake, she might as well have some coffee. She dragged herself out of bed and down to the kitchen. Two cups later, she was feeling marginally more human and significantly more annoyed. She wasn’t some kind of lovesick teenager; she was a mature adult who could definitely deal with her feelings by shoving them down far enough that she couldn’t feel them anymore. She put her cup on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch. She could do that; she could definitely do that…

*   *   *

He was staring at her, out of the darkness. The embers of his eyes flared as he approached, “I know what you’ve been dreaming of, love.” His voice curled around her ears, slinking down her spine.

“I…” Her breath caught; she sat up, pressing herself against the headboard.

He crawled onto the bed, covering her. “I can feel them, darling; all those naughty little thoughts you try to hide,” he closed his eyes and hissed in a harsh breath, “They smell so sweet.”

She shuddered, sliding back down the sheets. “ _Lucifer_ …” She moaned as his eyes met hers.

“Tell me what you want, Chloe,” he brushed the hair from her face, leaning down to whisper into her ear, “What do you desire?”

And this had never worked on her; she knew it didn’t, but she _wanted_ him to know. For the first time, she wanted to show him _exactly_ how he affected her, “I… I want…”

“Detective?”

She was lying sideways on the couch, neck bent at a strange angle against the arm. Lucifer was sitting on the chair opposite her. Her face flushed in embarrassment, but he wasn’t smirking in triumph like she’d expected. Instead he looked… _worried_? “Are you alright?”

“I… yeah, I’m fine.” She pulled herself up to sit. “What are you doing here?”

“I, er…” he blinked, “you prayed to me.”

“I _prayed_ to you?” She stared at him. “Wait, you can hear prayers?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face, leaning back in the chair. “Angel, remember? You thought of me with purpose and faith, and you sounded… _pained_ , so I,” he bit his lip, “flew, here.”

_Lucifer_ …

_Oh_. She blushed deeper, “Well, I’m… _good_. So you can, you know…”

“Right,” he stood up, “you’re sure you’re alright, though, love?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she just had to hold it together a little longer, “you don’t have to worry.”

His eyes crinkled in that soft way he didn’t show anyone else before he pulled her up into an all-encompassing hug. “I’m glad you’re ok,” he murmured into her hair. It was the first time they’d touched since she’d found out who he really was. She should be grateful for the simple, platonic contact—proof that their friendship had survived—but… he was warm and strong around her and she couldn’t help but shiver against him. He pulled back, confused. “Darling…?”

She steeled herself. There would be so many problems, but they could deal with them, _together_. And anyway, they couldn’t go on with this unspoken thing forever; she needed to sleep eventually. “I… I wasn’t hurt, Lucifer.”

“What?” He made to move away, but she caught his hands.

“I wasn’t hurt, I was… _dreaming_.”

“You were…” he mouthed, baffled; realization dawned on his face, “ _Oh_.” His shoulders relaxed slightly, “Did you… last night…?”

“You might’ve… in your sleep, maybe… said my name, or,” she licked her lips, “well, _moaned_ it, really.”

His jaw clenched nervously, “I… apologize?”

She shook her head. Her hands were thoughtlessly stroking down his arms, “No, I uh… I liked it.”

His eyebrows shot up, a little of his usual swagger returning. “ _Really_?” But then he flinched, shuffling his feet indecisively, “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“ _Lucifer_ ,” she took pity on him, on both of them, reaching up to caress his cheek, “I’m saying I want this. I… I’m saying _yes_.”

“You… _yes_?” He stared at her, lost.

Her old anxieties returned. She stammered, “Unless you… if _you_ don’t…” He didn’t, did he? Dreams were just dreams, after all. She pulled her hand from his face. How could someone like _him_ be interested in—

He caught her wrist, laughing breathlessly, “No, I… I _love_ you, Chloe. I thought that _you_ wouldn’t…” He shook his head. “I didn’t think _anyone_ would… not if they knew who I really am.” He kissed her palm; his heat burned into her.

Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Marcus, she knew now, she’d never truly loved, and Dan… It was too long ago, now; she wasn’t the same person she’d been then. She hadn’t exactly been innocent before the separation, the divorce, but _still_. This wasn’t new and bright like it’d been with Dan, nor did it feel like acquiescence as it had with Marcus. This felt warm and comforting and… Lucifer was staring at her, like… like he’d just made a heartfelt proclamation and she’d spaced out. She shook her head to clear it. “I… I love you too.”

His smile was nearly blinding in its intensity. He picked her up by the waist, spinning them both around. She giggled as he laid her back on her feet. “Now,” he entwined their fingers together, “Would you tell me about that lovely dream you were having?

She hummed, “If you’ll tell me about yours?”

He settled them both on the couch, their hands still clasped together. “You were teasing me, love. You’d restrained me with those wonderful handcuffs of yours and I was, well,” he shrugged, “all tied up with nowhere to go.”

“ _Wow_.” She considered, “Would you want me to… _do_ that?”

_Oh_ , _yes_ ,” he breathed. “I would love to be at your mercy, darling,” he slipped off the couch to kneel at her feet, “fulfilling your _every_ desire.”

“Oh _hell_ ,” she tangled her fingers in his hair, “ _Lucifer_ …”

“Tell me what you want, Chloe.” She was back in the dream now, but better; he was here and _real_ and gazing up at her adoringly.

“Your… your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“I… I want,” she didn’t have his easy confidence with such matters, but she was _safe_ with him, no matter what, “I want to feel them burn into mine. I want you over me and your lips on mine and your fingers in me and—”

He surged up, capturing her lips and moaning into her. “Oh, love…” He kissed down her neck, grazing his teeth against her skin. But then he pulled back, watching her until her eyes, which had unconsciously shut, fluttered back open, “You’re sure you want… my devil face is a… a punishment, darling. It tends to, _well_ , drive people mad.”

She pressed her forehead against his. “I’m not afraid of you, _any_ of you. Plus,” she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “they’re pretty.”

He grinned at her, sitting back on the couch. “You know, most _normal_ people would say that about the wings, not the…” He gestured at his face.

“Well,” she shrugged, “I haven’t seen _them_ , have I?”

He licked his lips nervously. “Would you like to?”

“I… _please_.” He got up, rather abruptly, walking to the back door. She started, standing awkwardly. “I’m sorry…?”

“What?” He blinked at her, “ _Oh_. No, I… I thought we could… outside? I don’t think you have a room large enough that I wouldn’t knock something over.”

“That…” she flushed, “that makes sense.” _Holy hell, how big were they?_ She followed him onto the small patio. “You’re sure no one’ll see out here?”

“This is where I landed earlier; I think we’ll be alright.” He took several steps away from her, stopping a few feet into the grass. He considered her, “You may want to sit down. I don’t anticipate any major problems, but they can be… _unsettling_.”

“So why would you—”

“You deserve to know _everything_ , Chloe. _See_ everything,” he bit his lip, “Not just the nice things.”

“Angel wings aren’t _nice_?” The Precious Moments tchotchkes she remembered her grandmother having hadn’t exactly been _threatening._

He winced, “They’re weapons of God. I, _technically_ , am a weapon of God. And humans aren’t… _equipped_ to deal with divinity.”

“Right, well,” she dragged a lawn chair over, settling into it, “I guess I’m as ready as I’m gonna be.”

He nodded, rolling his shoulders and… reality went sideways. CGI in movies didn’t, apparently, adequately prepare you for your best friend suddenly having a 20 foot wingspan. They fluttered a little in the early morning breeze. The chair had probably been a good idea; she couldn’t remotely feel her legs. She’d known they were white from the feathers that had littered that crime scene, but somehow the word ‘white’ didn’t do them justice. They looked like… the light of God. Glory she wasn’t worthy of. No lowly human could be… “Are you doing alright?”

Her eyes snapped back to his face and her brain resettled. He was just him and the wings were just… a distractingly shiny part of him. “Yeah, yeah I’m f—” But the sun chose that moment to make an appearance, bathing the wings in the glow of dawn, and she was lost again.

_The lightbringer, wings caught in the light of the stars he put in the sky._

She blinked herself back to cognition. She’d stood without conscious thought; her bare feet were wet with dew and her hand was outstretched, inches from a frighteningly sharp-looking feather. He was watching her apprehensively, eyes dark and ancient. “You can touch, if you’d like, but,” he repositioned her arm, “I’d stay away from the primaries. They can be a bit… pointy.”

When her fingertips met an especially fluffy feather, her mind cleared. It was warm, like his skin, and shivered a little from the tension of the muscles. It was real and solid beneath her hand, as he’d always been. She pulled back a little before throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you.”

There was a whispered flutter as the wings disappeared. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. “You’re very welcome, love.”

They headed back inside. “So,” she smiled, “what do you want to…” Her words were interrupted by a yawn so strong it made her ears pop.

“Maybe we could…” he succumbed to a yawn of his own.

“Sleep first, fun later?”

“Actually,” he hummed as she led him upstairs, “that sounds… _perfect_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr or twitter: @obliobla


	3. With Lustrous Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who were hoping for a fluffy resolution, I'm... sorry? My brain was very insistent that angst and sadness happen; far be it for me to argue with my muse. I hope you like it!
> 
> Trigger warning for consensual handcuffing.

“ _Lucifer_ …”

Chloe panted her pleasure into the darkening room as Lucifer blinked up at her from where he lay between her legs. He smiled, but there was something almost frail in his expression as he kissed her hip. She reached down and caught his hand. “Come here.” He gave her a last, sensuous lick before rising, settling over her carefully, nuzzling against her neck. She stroked down the line of his spine. “Are you alright?”

He pulled his head up to meet her gaze, “I’m… _wonderful_ , darling. Why?”

“It’s nothing. You just seem a little… nervous.” She shook her head. “I’m being silly.”

“No, I… I find myself rather… _anxious_ to please you.” He bit his lip; she followed the motion unconsciously, heat flaring anew. “I’ve never,” he frowned. “You mean _everything_ to me, Chloe. I just… I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Would it,” she flushed, but pushed past the embarrassment, “Would it help if we tried that… _thing_ you dreamed about?”

“I…” He swallowed heavily.

She combed her fingers through his sleep messed hair. “Let me take care of you. Please?”

“… _ok_.” He slipped back on the bed, watching as she sat up and pulled her handcuffs out of the side table. He held out his hands.

She looked between the softness of his wrists and the harsh edges of the steel. “Is… Will these work? I don’t want to hurt you.”

He smiled wistfully. “It’s fine, love. You can’t harm me permanently. And I can get out of them at any time, so you don’t have to worry.”

A series of memories flashed through her mind as she bound him. She stood up, biting her lip, “But if you can… then why…?”

“These,” he shook the chain, “ _aren’t_ the restraint. They’re just… symbolic of it.” He lay back on her bed, arms stretched over his head. She’d expected more… _heat_ in his gaze, not this aching vulnerability. But then he blinked, wriggled his still clothed hips and grinned, “Well, have your way with me, then.”

She shuffled uncertainly; she needed… something. Her foot brushed something soft. His shirt lay discarded on the floor where he’d dropped it before they’d both passed out, desperate to feel each other, but too tired to take their pleasure. She pulled it on, rolling the sleeves up and buttoning it haphazardly. One of those involuntary whimpers caught in his throat. She looked back at him; his hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white and, as she met his eyes, the irises flashed with frantic fire. “Oh, _shit_ …” She leaned her shaking legs against the mattress. And suddenly, she had to touch him, had to feel him shudder under her hands. Feel him twitch and jerk because of her, _for_ her. She pressed forward and traced along his ribs. If she didn’t know who he was, she might have thought him feverish, as hot as he was and, when she slid her hand around to his chest, how violently his heart beat against her fingertips.

“ _Ah_ ,” he said, quite distinctly, as she climbed up next to him, like only something so meaningless could fully explain exactly how he was feeling. In her dreams he’d been forceful, if tender. And she wanted that too—to be so overcome while knowing there was nowhere safer she could be—but this was… _exquisite_. She’d messed around a little with bondage before but, while it’d been fun enough, it had never felt as significant as _this_.

As her fingers swept down to his stomach, she felt him tense beneath her with the effort of staying still. He groaned and she nipped at his hip bones. She leaned up, looking down at his face; his jaw tightened and his eyelashes fluttered, eyes just a little wet and she needed, then, to reassure him. She kissed the mild irritation from his wrists, stroking down his arms. “I…” she blinked, “I want to keep you safe.”

His eyes shot open, then narrowed. The shackles rattled as his hands subconsciously rose to touch the gold of her hanging hair; he quirked his lip, pressing his wrists back against the pillow. “I am _not_ … fragile.”

She met his gaze, concerned, but he nodded submissively. She relaxed, massaging his too tight shoulders, “No?”

“I _can’t_ …” He hissed in a labored breath. “You can’t show weakness in Hell. They would’ve…”

“Shh...” She kissed his forehead. “You’re _here_ now.”

He trembled, “I don’t…”

“Will you show me?” she whispered, “I want you to show me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Everything, remember?” She ran the pad of her thumb over his stubble, “Not just the nice things.” She stroked along his knuckles; he relaxed his hand and she took it.

His fingers tightened around hers. “ _Everything_.” His skin melted away, revealing raw flesh and jagged scars. His eyes flickered red and gold, the sclera black. She bit back a gasp; she’d seen this before, of course, but only briefly and not so close, nor half so… _intimately_. His hand was warmer even than it normally was against hers, and strangely smooth. She ran her free hand down his chest and leaned down to kiss his still soft lips, then pulled back and followed her fingers’ path down, kissing every deeper scar and rougher patch.

When she reached his waistband, blissful moans gave way to a quiet strangled sound. She moved up to nose at his jaw, “Doing ok?”

His eyes, which had closed, flicked back open, “I’ve never…” The cuffs shifted as he gestured at his face.

“Not even,” she frowned, “Maze?”

He shook his head. “I am beauty and grace and desire, but I am also this: ugliness and cruelty and… _pain_. And,” he sighed, “the two do _not_ meet.”

“If you’re not ok with this…”

“I…” his face twisted in confusion, “ _want_ this…?” He sounded so uncertain—of his desires and that he even deserved to get what he wanted—her heart broke. She wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re not, you know,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

“Not what?”

She pulled back to meet his eyes evenly, even as they made heat settle within her. She caressed his cheek, “You’re not ugly.”

“ _Darling_ —”

“Or cruel. And… any pain you have, y-you don’t deserve it, it’s not your fault, _and_ ,” she moved to straddle his stomach, “you are _allowed_ to feel it.

“You don’t have to hide from me. Not ever.”

The manacles screeched as he yanked at them before he remembered himself, pulling his arms back over his head. He cleared his throat, “Love, I…”

“Tell me what you want, Lucifer,” she kissed him again, whispering against his lips, “What do _you_ desire?”

“I… Make me fall apart. _Please_?”

She grinned, sliding down his body as he’d done for her. When she caught at his boxers, his breathing changed. She froze, “Are you…?”

He gritted his teeth before consciously relaxing into her mattress. “It… it’s alright.”

“I’m not afraid of you, remember? Do you… do you trust me?”

“ _Completely_.”

She caught at his underwear and slowly dragged them down his legs. He was bare before her now, in a way he’d never been with anyone. And it _was_ strange—he was as flayed and ragged here as everywhere else after all; the fire of the Fall had spared nothing—but she could never be horrified by him. She took him gently in hand and tried to convey every drop of tenderness she could. His jaw dropped as he panted, moaning brokenly. “Darling…” He hummed lowly and she felt herself throb in response. She sped her movements and he gasped, “ _Chloe.”_ His skin was cracking, filling with rivulets of flame, almost burning her palm. But then he loosed an almost anguished cry and shuddered.

“S-st-stop.”

She pulled back sharply. He breathed roughly for a moment, staring dazedly in her direction, his flesh turning pale and unblemished, his eyes clearing to black in the dim. The cuffs clinked as they unfastened themselves from his wrists and he set them aside. He grimaced, running a hand through his hair, “Sorry, I… I don’t…”

Her heart ached for him. “You don’t have to apologize.”

He huffed breathlessly, cheeks reddening, “Apparently I’m not… _quite_ ready for…”

“That’s alright.” She sat very still, hand hanging indecisively in the air. “Can I…”

He reached out an arm and tugged her onto him. He kissed her hair. “Thank you,” he murmured, brushing strands from her face.

“But I didn’t…”

“No, I… you… _Chloe_.”

And he had no other words, but she didn’t need them. She tucked her head under his chin as he lay back. She smiled softly against his chest. “Everything, right?” She felt him nod. His wings slid across her sheets as they manifested; he wrapped them around her, around them both.

“ _Everything_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if this is the best place for this, but I find myself in need of a beta reader for a longer story I'm working on. More for broader structural issues than line by line editing. And I'm absolutely willing to beta stuff in return. DM me on tumblr or twitter if you're interested (@obliobla) or let me know in the comments if there's a better place to ask.
> 
> I'm still pretty new to fanfic writing, so any info would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading and commenting!


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